Birth of Temptation
by KotOR-Luvr
Summary: His mistake nearly costed him his life, but now it may very well cost him his sanity. His silence, costed him his safety, and nearly costed him his colleagues. The Junior Deputy is forced into a war he never wished to fight, and now he has to pick which side he will fight for. Both choices, have consequences. Consequences, which he doesn't ever wish to face.


**A/N: Against my better judgement, I decided to make an FC5 fanfic. I remember when the game first released and I decided to buy it (I didn't preorder but I got hyped enough to buy it the day it released - I literally stayed up until it was ready to purchase/play), like for whatever odd reason I truly felt some kind of connection to the game. Walking through the doors of the church, and Joseph was a damn compelling man. Like the animators did a good job with like expressions because his gaze was intense! Of course, as expected, Ubisoft managed to put a hidden ending into their game, and to me there is technically a second secret ending (people don't like being patient when leading Joseph to the helicopter, and so they never see what happens if they stray too far from the group). But anyways, Imma shut up now and let y'all read!**

**Chapter Genre: Suspense**

**Chapter Rating: T**

**Rating Content: Coarse Language, Mild Depictions of Violence, Implications of Death**

* * *

All he could see on his phone was the _Service Lost_ notification, which both confused and frustrated him, since there were plenty of cell towers in this state. Why would the signal be so shitty?

"Hey, Rookie," His head snapped up to the Sheriff, who had gently tapped his knee. "You're wasting your time, there's no signal out here."

He shrugged and put his phone back into his pocket, his eyes briefly meeting with the Marshal's. There was a few moments of silence, allowing him to think. First assignment jitters were always a thing with _any_ Rookie, but this... was something else. He had a bad feeling in his stomach, and his heart. There wasn't anything evil hanging around, yet, at least not that he could feel, but something about this entire assignment had already put him off, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it.

"Crossing over the Henbane now." His thoughts were broken by Staci, and his eyes caught sight of something almost glittering in the moonlight.

"There he is..." Hudson almost snarled. He ignored the rest of the curses and ill words spat out by his colleagues, and he continued to look at the statue until it was out of his line of sight. Joseph Seed, the one who had started everything.

From what he was briefed on, he understood that the Seed family was considered as insane, lunatics, mentally unstable, almost everything involving mental illness or insanity. Started off small, but slowly built themselves up. The Peggies have been classified as a cult, which wasn't quite right in his eyes but he was not one to question his superiors. Or correct them.

"How much longer?" The Marshal asked, his impatience beginning to grow.

"Enough for you to change your mind," The Sheriff answered. "So we can turn this bird around."

For whatever reason, he was _hoping_ the Marshal would change his mind. The unsettling feeling was beginning to churn his stomach, making him feel queasy. He would rather turn the copter around, but unfortunately, it was not a decision he was allowed or able to make.

"You want me to ignore a federal warrant, Sheriff?" The Marshal asked, his voice almost threatening in nature.

Whitehorse was quick to answer. "No, sir. I want you to understand the reality of this situation-"

He tuned the Sheriff out, staring out of the helicopter window and down to the forestry below. Such a peaceful sight, the moon shining down on the forest, miles and miles of greenery, he could see a herd of deer jumping across a small, glittering stream, where the salmon were no doubt using to aid their migration. Somewhere, the mournful cry of wolves would be heard, a small rabbit is making its way to the safety of its burrow, and everywhere, people were at rest, at peace, however brief it may be, until the dawn came. It was truly a beautiful sight, but the beauty seen above, belied the corruption that was within. All a ruse, a mask of sorts. Beauty never represented goodness, in his eyes.

He heard another voice in the headset over his ears, but he ignored it, deciding not to pay attention until he was addressed specifically.

Having never grown up in Hope County, he didn't feel much of a connection with the town, or its people, but they were more than nice enough folk. But it just wasn't home, to him. Yet, despite that, he knew the place inside and out, he even had a favourite spot to go to whenever he was off duty, or even on duty but perhaps having a short break (but keeping his vehicle nearby with the door open in case he was paged).

"Maybe we should've brought Nancy along instead of the Probie." He once again was shaken from his thoughts, again by the sharp voice of Staci. "These Peggies wouldn't fuck with her-"

"Then turn the copter around, if you want." He snapped at the man. "So you can drop me off and pick her up."

There was dead silence then, and he turned his attention back out the window, watching the trees below them once more. Rarely did he speak, not that he was the strong silent type, but because he did not enjoy the sound of his own voice. He often kept to himself because of it. So, it often stunned people whenever he spoke, especially if his words were harsh or angry in nature. Many considered him as soft and harmless, which wasn't entirely false, but also not quite true, but to each their own.

Although his colleagues had been very kind to him and respected him, from some, he could still feel the judgment in their gazes, and he hated the feeling. But, at least they never voiced their judgments.

"We're here. Compound's just below us."

The Peggie compound came into his line of sight, and the knots in his stomach seemed to tighten at the sight. Despite what he heard, he didn't wish to judge people until he got to know them, even if their intents and actions were evil and cruel in nature. 'A clean slate until it's marked', Hudson had once put it.

The Sheriff was starting to feel the same unease and worry that the Rookie was. "Last chance, Marshal."

He looked to the man in question, a small flash of hope in his eyes when he saw the hesitation in the Marshal's. Perhaps they _would_ turn around, just go back home, leave well enough alone-

"We're going in."

Or, perhaps not.

"Set her down." When the helicopter didn't move, the Sheriff looked over his shoulder to the pilot. "_Pratt_."

Only then did Staci do as instructed, the realization now setting in that this was happening. He didn't like this situation at all, not one damn bit. He had heard damned horror stories about what the Peggies did to people they captured. He'd rather not end up suffering the same way others have.

His unease grew the closer they got to the ground, the bonfire he saw being made making him feel suddenly unsafe. Into the fiery pits of hell, they go...

The engines died down, as did the sound of the blades as they began to slow in their rotations. Whitehorse called dispatch, warning her as to their whereabouts. "If you don't hear from us in fifteen minutes, send everyone, call the goddamn National Guard if you have to. Over."

"Yes sir, Sheriff. I'll be praying for you."

He took off his headset, as did everyone else. Would it really get that dangerous...?

"Listen up;" Whitehorse addressed them all. "Got three rules: Stick close, keep your goddamn guns in your holsters, and let me do the talking." He then looked to the Marshal. "Got it?"

"Got it." He replied.

"Rookie?"

He nodded wordlessly, not trusting his voice at that point in time. He was feeling more nervous as the seconds passed, and he was praying that things would go peacefully. He didn't want to end up going back home in a wooden box.

"_Let's go_."

He suddenly felt the chill evening air as the Marshal opened the helicopter door, the reality now smacking him across the face that this was actually happening. He felt his hand beginning to twitch and shake, and he was quick to put his leather glove on it, helping to calm the twitching. Just remain calm, he reminded himself. Everything will be fine.

He felt many eyes on him as the Peggies watched them walk down the dirt path, the barking and snarling of canines becoming almost deafening to him, the singing from the church becoming louder as they got closer to it. If it weren't for their current location, the song would've brought a lot more comfort to him. But, having the threat of shotguns and automatic rifles pointed at him, spoiled any sort of comfort he could've had.

They finally reached the doors that lead into the church, the sounds of barking snarling dogs and bonfires snapping and crackling now quieter since they were further from them.

The Marshal started to open the door, making him jump back and nearly go for his gun, knowing just how jumpy the Peggies could be, but the Sheriff managed to stop the man. "Woah, Marshal. We do this, we do this _my way_. Calmly, quietly... understand?"

"Fine."

"Hudson, watch the door, guard our backs. Don't let any of those Peggies get in." He then looked to him. "Rookie, on me."

He now actually wishes someone would shoot him already. He'd rather guard the door and be at risk of that instead of going straight into the heart of the compound, in a small building with loads of Peggies, and possibly their leader.

Regardless of his inner turmoil, he nodded, and Whitehorse addressed the Marshal once more. "And you... just try not to do anything stupid."

"_Relax_," he chided. "You're about to get your name in the paper."

He glared slightly at the Marshal, disgusted in how he thought this was being done for fame, and not for the safety of the people. Why did people have to be so selfish...

Whitehorse opened the doors, and as they entered, he heard the voice of Joseph seed.

And felt the eyes of the Peggies on them.

The music was suddenly silenced, the singing slowly died, and he felt his anxiety continuing to grow and grow.

"Something is coming. You can feel it, can't you?" Joseph Seed spoke to his followers, "That we are creeping towards the edge... and there _will_ be a reckoning."

The three lawmen slowly approached the insane preacher, waiting for _someone _to crack, to point their guns first, but no such thing ever happened. And so, the preacher continued. "That's why we started the project. Because we know what happens next! They will come, they will take from us. Take our guns, our freedom... our _faith_! But we will not let them."

He immediately knew this tactic. He was wanting to rile up his followers, instill fear into the three lawmen, make it seem like what they wanted to do, was nothing but a lost cause. It didn't work for at least one of them, despite that all Peggies that had attended the service were now standing, eyes on the three lawmen, guns ready.

"C'mon, Sheriff-"

"Easy, Marshal-"

"Shut the fuck up, you're making me nervous!" He hissed quietly, his hand twitching almost uncontrollably now. He could feel the growing impatience in the Marshal, could practically see it in his eyes. He just prayed his impatience wouldn't get them all killed.

"We will not let their _greed_, their immorality, their depravity hurt us anymore!" The Father continued, his voice rising not in anger, but almost as if to call to his people, a call to arms, a call to defend themselves, defend him.

"Sheriff-"

"Remain calm, do not pull that trigger..."

"_There will be no more suffering_!"

He felt fear grip his heart as the Marshal cursed and pulled out the warrant, showing it to the Father. "_Joseph Seed_," he barked, the short silence following afterwards more nerve wracking than the man's preaching. "I have a warrant for your arrest, on the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent to harm. Now, I want you to step forward, keep your hands where I can see 'em."

He did a quiet sigh and briefly rubbed the bridge of his nose. The feds _always_ want to shoot their guns before asking questions. Or want to take charge when it wasn't their time or place to. Just because they wore a shinier badge made them feel like they could bark orders and make everyone obey. He hated people in higher positions of power in general, in terms of law, especially if they let their position get to their heads.

Like the Marshal.

Joseph slowly raised his hands, and he noticed the beads hanging from his left hand. So, he was pretty serious about his religion and faith, it seemed...

The Peggies started to become agitated, spouting hateful words and threats at the lawmen, putting the Rookie into a greater sense of unease and insecurity. It didn't help that the Father was going off on another one of his tangents.

"Here they are. The locusts in our garden." His voice was so calm, unwavering, not exposing any fear or anger, if he was even feeling those emotions. "You see that they've come for me. Come to take me away from you, come to _destroy all that we've built_."

He began to panic upon seeing his followers stand in front of him, in front of _them_, and he could see their resolve. They'd be willing to take a bullet for this man, or dozens of bullets, if it meant keeping him in that church.

He jumped back, his hand nearly going for his own gun, when he saw the Marshal almost draw his weapon and Whitehorse shouted at him to _not_ even touch the damned thing. The Peggies were turning more and more hostile, and as he backed away, he backed into the ones that had soundlessly, swarmed them from the back, and he felt trapped, afraid, almost like a bunny in a cage. He heard more shouts from the Sheriff, but he could hardly stand the sound of his own thoughts let alone the shouting of the Peggies. In his panic, he managed to catch sight of the Father, slowly stepping down from the stage, holding his hands out to his flock. His presence seemed to calm them, and in turn, it made him feel more at ease, knowing no bullets were going to be fired. Yet.

There was a deafening silence, and his eyes darted around the church, as if expecting some kind of ambush, or a trap. None came, and all he saw were two men and a woman, moving closer to Joseph, bringing themselves behind him. He believed them to be Joseph's siblings, but he wasn't entirely certain. He never really tried to learn the Seeds and their faces, never thinking he'd be in a situation like this. Ever. He just knew their names, and that was it.

"We knew this moment would come." The Father spoke to his flock, his voice seeming to put them more at ease. They truly trusted this man's word... "We have prepared for it. Go."

They stood still, not wishing to leave the Father in the hands of the lawmen. But he stood his ground. "Go."

His flock slowly left the church, passing by the Rookie, giving him evil and menacing glares and glances. "God will not let them take me."

He watched the last few leave, not wanting to die because someone decided to shoot him in the back. Dust was kicked up as the doors closed and he sneezed slightly, the dust irritating his nostrils. Didn't they ever keep this church _clean_? His attention was drawn back to the Father as his voice echoed through the now, nearly empty church.

"_The lamb opened the first seal, I heard as it were the sound of thunder, one of the four beasts saying 'come and see'_,"

"Step forward." The Marshal ordered, now completely fed up with the lunatics' ranting.

"_And I_ _saw_." The man continued, stepping forward as instructed. "_And __behold,_" his eyes strayed from the Marshal, to the Sheriff. ""_It was Whitehorse_..." His eyes then moved to his own, and he froze in place, almost as if he were made of stone. "_And Hell followed with him_."

Those words shook the Rookie to his very core, remembering the lessons on Revelations very well from his youth. The first seal out of seven. He knew the guy was a madman, but there is _always_ a method to one's madness. He had a burning question, as to what the Father's was.

The Father held out his hands to him, knowing full well what was to come next. "Rookie," the Marshal addressed him. "Cuff this son of a bitch."

Why did it have to be left up to him?! He didn't even want to come along in the first place, and the Marshal was the one hellbent on taking the damned preacher to prison or wherever he was going to end up. Why leave it up to him to cuff the man?!

His eyes turned from the Marshal's, to the Father's, his gaze seeming to pierce through him and straight into his very soul.

"God will not let you take me."

All eyes were on him. The ones behind Joseph, who he now was definitely certain were his siblings, had their gazes on him as well. So many expectations placed on him, so many eyes watching, waiting for what they thought would be coming next. His eyes couldn't leave the Father's, his gloved hand lingering over the cuffs at his hip, and he swallowed heavily, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. Christ, he needed a glass of water...

The Father knew, in that moment, he had him. He wasn't sure how, but some sort of connection was made between them, one that was making the deputy hesitate, making the deputy doubt themselves, and their actions. "Put down your guns," He said, his voice almost like a whisper. "Take your friends... and walk away."

No longer the words of a madman. The words, of a man, who knew something, that they didn't. Words of warning. The Father, pleading for them to walk away. To leave well enough alone.

His superior, urges him to cuff the man, using the term 'rookie'. He wants to be obeyed, but his instinct is screaming for him to listen to those words of warning. He could hear his own heart beat, hear it hammering within his breast, as if trying to pound its way out, trying to burst open his chest.

"God is watching. And He will judge you, on what you choose, in this moment."

He manages to break his gaze, but his eyes then fall onto the people behind him. A mistake, in his mind. His eyes fall onto Faith, such a fragile, and innocent, looking woman, who seems to be almost at peace. Neutral, even, on this entire situation. In her eyes, there lies no judgement, or expectation. She just watches, waiting.

His eyes fall onto the man with scars. He's large, not just in height, but in body mass. Literally, could break his neck just by looking at him in his opinion. Despite the power radiating from the man (which caused quite the fear in the rookie), he could sense the man's suffering. Despite his tough exterior, he knew his scars ran far deeper than what lied on the surface. A soldier. The soldier. Jacob. The judgement he could see in his eyes, is what tore his gaze away from the larger man. He despised judgement more than anything else.

His eyes then fell onto who he guessed was John Seed. A somewhat lanky man. Then again, so was Joseph. His eyes locked with the Baptist, and he could see this malice in his gaze. Not judgement of character or worth, but he could see that he was being judged... somehow. He just couldn't quite place it...

The Marshal broke his trance, his impatience now apparent. "_Goddammit_, _Rookie_..."

He jumped slightly at the harsh tone in the man's voice, and instinctively, he went for the cuffs, and wrapped the silver bindings around the Father's wrists. His family behind him, gave disapproving or disappointed stares, or upset. What else were they expecting?

The Father seemed calm, almost serene. "Sometimes the best thing to do..." He whispered, as if not wishing for the Marshal or the Sheriff to hear. "Is to walk away."

He kept the preacher in front of him, a hand on his shoulder and the other on his forearm, to keep him walking forward, and he felt no resistance from the man. Once again, that unease settled in, wondering if they were really doing the right thing. Or the smartest thing. This man seemed to know something none of them did, and it made him worry.

The church doors opened to reveal a very scared looking Hudson. "We need to get the fuck out of here!" She said, the urgency not missed in her voice. And he could understand why, considering how agitated the Peggies were becoming, especially when they saw the Father in cuffs.

His superiors urged him to keep up, urged him to stay close, dogs snarled and barked, men and women called out to their leader, to their idol, their guardian, their protector, called out to their oppressors to let him go. Through all the chaos, through all the shouts and anguished cries, he could hear the Father speak to him, and him alone.

"_Sometimes it's best to leave well enough alone_."

He halted, frozen in his tracks, his blood running just as cold. His brows furrowed in worry and fear, the words spoken reverberating in his mind, over and over, the gears turning and grinding, bringing back up a memory, recalling where he had heard them before.

The realization dawned on him.

He opened his mouth, a call to his colleagues on his lips, and he realized then that his only means of safety, was now too far. Just as his voice started, as his warning was nearly made known, the Father was grabbed, taken from his grasp and into the safety of his flock, and the cold hard end of a gun hit him, knocking him down, stunning him. It was brought down again, a stab of pain, a flash of white.

Darkness.


End file.
